


Shut Up and Dance

by bazypitchandsimonsnow (ChessPargeter)



Category: Carry On - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, Normal AU, POV Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch, Song: Shut Up and Dance, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-06-26
Packaged: 2018-11-19 05:39:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11306820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChessPargeter/pseuds/bazypitchandsimonsnow
Summary: Baz sees a beautiful man at the club. Deep in his eyes, he thinks he can see a future.Based on “Shut Up and Dance” by Walk the Moon.





	Shut Up and Dance

**Author's Note:**

> I've been listening to this song on repeat for a week, and I realised how well it could work as a fic. So here's a songfic. Enjoy!

**Baz**

It’s eighties night at the club. “Take On Me” blasts from the large speakers. Everyone is dressed like the cast of Saved by The Bell. It's awful.

I don’t know why Niall thought it was a good idea to come here. We look absolutely ridiculous, and the music is terrible. There’s a reason this style was very quickly abandoned when the decade ended. But here I am, in a horrifically yellow jacket and a pair of pants with too many zippers, occasionally sipping on an overpriced Cosmopolitan.

“Whoo! What a night!” Niall says as he falls against the bar, letting his head loll back with a laugh. He grins at me. I scowl.

“Well, at least you seem to be enjoying yourself,” I grumble.

Niall frowns slightly. “Oh come on, Baz! It’s great. It’s...nostalgic and shit.”

“Nostalgic? We weren’t even _born_ in the eighties.”

“Ugh, you know what I mean. Just have some fun.”

I look away and sip my drink. Niall rolls his eyes. He spots some blonde with a perm and immediately goes to her. I scoff and lean back farther. I try to drink some more, but I’m out. I groan and put the glass down.

My eyes scan over the room. Everyone’s jumping and dancing, moving to the beat. But one, just one of them, stands out completely.

He definitely can’t dance. He moves recklessly with no regard for rhythm. His thin arms, reaching high above, wave around without abandon. His outfit isn’t even particularly eighties. It’s some sort of backless pale blue shirt paired with ripped jeans. He jumps up and down in a pair of beat up red Converse trainers. The pulsing club lights catch in his mass of bronze curls, making them glow in an ethereal way. He’s a frantic, messy presence in an already noisy place, and I can’t take my eyes off him.

I don’t know how long I spend staring before he notices. But he does. His blue eyes lock with my grey ones. His soft face is covered in a constellation of freckles and moles. He smiles, and everything else around him fades away. My chest flutters a bit. He gets closer and closer, and I think I’m just imagining it. I just wish he is moving towards me, so my mind creates it. But then he’s there. Standing in front of me with his tawny skin and his moles and his alcohol tinged breath, and my words barely make it off my usually sharp tongue.

“Hi,” I say softly.

“H-Hi.” His voice is nervous, but soft, just like the rest of him. “You were, uh staring at me.”

“Well I don’t know, um, I-” Fuck, I’m usually more eloquent than this. I feel like a babbling idiot.

“It’s alright! I didn’t mind, really.”

“Oh. Well, that’s good, I guess.”

“I’m Simon, by the way.”

 _Simon_. The name rings through my mind like a symphony. “Charmed. I’m Baz.”

Simon sticks out his hand to me. “Nice to meet you, Baz.”

When I touch him, a warmth from more than just his body heat tickles my skin.

The song changes. He (sadly) pulls his hand away. “You Spin Me Round” (the original version, not the shitty American remix) starts playing. Simon gasps and grins. He claps his hands like a giddy seal.

“Oh I love this song!”

I deflate slightly. Well, this is done. He’s going to go off and dance with some girl, and I’ll go back to my moping. To my surprise, Simon grabs my arm. I feel the same warmth shoot up to my shoulder and spread across my chest. He drags me forward towards the crowd. For a thin man at least three inches shorter than me, he’s able to pull me pretty easily (or maybe I'm just not putting up much of a fight). We push and shove until we’re a part of the dancing mass.

He starts thrashing and jumping like before. I do my best to mimic, though I honestly don’t know what I’m doing. I can ballroom dance no problem (Father made me take classes). But eighties pop songs are a mystery to me. I do my best, moving my hips back and forth a bit and waving my arms. But I’m absolute shite by general standards. I quickly look towards my spot at the bar. Where I was alone but at least comfortable.

“Hey,” Simon yells over the music, “don’t look back.” I turn to face him. He’s smiling, and my heart melts into my shoes. “Just keep your eyes on me.”

I nod helplessly. As the song goes on, I get more of a feel for the beat. I move around with him and I never stop looking at Simon. He gets closer, which only makes my heart beat faster. His eyes, scrunched up a bit at the corners with his grin, captivate me in way I’ve never felt before. They’re not any special colour or shape. They’re just blue, but they’re so fucking pretty. His radiant smile only makes him look more beautiful.

Usually I don’t let my imagination get away from me. I stay in the present. I’m a realist to a fault. But looking at this man, this frantically dancing golden man, I can almost imagine looking at him forever.

The song ends, and another starts closely on it’s heels. But there’s that awkward pause where everyone stops to adjust to the new rhythm. I stop, panting for breath. I look at my dance partner. He runs a hand through his curls and chuckles.

“Hey,” I start, “thanks for bringing me here. I don’t usually do this. I’m usually off to the side. And, well, it’s been great, and I wanted to say-”

Simon strides forward and puts a finger over my lips. I freeze, eyes wide. He’s smirking in a sort of knowing, devilish way. A blush blooms on my face.

“You talk too much,” he says, so closely that I can feel his breath on my cheek. He traces a nail down my jawline and holds my chin (it feels so good). “Shut up and dance with me.”

I do think about saying something, but there’s really no point. I know what I want to do. I grin, and listen to what he says. Simon smiles back, putting his arms around me as we move to the beat. He's so close now. And I don't want him to be far away ever again.

**Author's Note:**

> I thought about making this longer but I think it's good as a short, sweet fic. I love this song, which is weird, considering my music mostly involves electric guitar solos and/or metal screams (I'm #edgy). I feel like this song is designed to be a fanfic, personally. It's perfect. I had fun writing it and I hoped you liked it :D


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